Alibis and Amethysts (26 page)

“You again,” Cirello said when he saw Rory. He tucked his weapon into a shoulder holster
under his jacket “What is it with you and dead bodies?” Hobo growled, a menacing rumble
deep in his throat, as if he remembered the detective had wanted to send him to the
pound.

“Hobo found the deceased about nine AM, before any of today’s visitors had a chance
to come through here,” she said, ignoring Cirello’s question. “I checked him for a
pulse, but I didn’t check his pockets or disturb the scene in any way.” Most cops
would have appreciated her input. She wasn’t at all surprised to find that Cirello
was barely paying attention.

“I see you kept the mutt,” he said shaking his head as he pulled on latex gloves.
He hunkered down next to the body. “Has the owner of the place been notified?”

“I didn’t want to leave the scene until you arrived. I’ll do it now.”

“No need. My partner will find him. You know the deceased?”

“I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure from this angle.”

Cirello searched the man’s pockets. All he came away with was a thin wallet. He straightened
up as he rifled through it. “Matthew Dmitriev,” he said, pulling out a driver’s license.
“Ring a bell?”

“I know the name,” Rory said, “but I never met him.” She’d heard the name for the
first time that morning when Gil Harper hired her to find out who in his company was
involved in industrial espionage and sabotage for the competition. Matthew was the
Harper’s CPA, and Gil had wanted her to meet with him about the sabotage.

“That’s it?” Cirello asked as if he suspected she was holding out on him. Despite
Rory’s antipathy for the detective, if he’d been with homicide she would have felt
constrained to tell him everything she knew. But since he wasn’t, she didn’t intend
to say anything more until Leah arrived.

The detective’s eyes narrowed. “How is it you know the name?”

Okay, she was going to have to answer that question or flirt with an obstruction of
justice charge. And Cirello was just the guy to make sure it stuck.

“Gil Harper told me Matthew worked for him.” There, that should be enough to keep
her out of jail. She glanced at her watch. It wouldn’t be too much longer before Leah
made it there. Meanwhile two more patrolmen had arrived and their row in the maze
was getting crowded. Cirello told them to walk the rest of the maze to see what they
could find.

“Just don’t touch anything,” he shouted after them. One of the men raised his hand
to indicate he’d heard the warning. Rory had a feeling he would have preferred to
use four less fingers. Cirello’s attitude had probably made him the darling of the
precinct.

“Is that him? Is that Matthew?” Gil Harper had just come around the bend accompanied
by Danny, Cirello’s younger partner. “Oh no, no, no.” Gil was wild-eyed and ashen,
a very different man from the one Rory had been with barely fifteen minutes earlier.

“Rory?” Gil’s voice seemed to be brimming with unasked questions. He searched her
face as if he might find an explanation there.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. But his focus had already
shifted back to Matthew. She exchanged a low-key greeting with Danny, surprised to
see that he was still with Cirello. If she’d been saddled with the nasty curmudgeon,
she wouldn’t have lasted a week. Maybe there were some secret perk to being Cirello’s
partner. Like maybe he made the best barbeque or fudge on the Island. But somehow
Rory doubted it.

“Mr. Harper,” Cirello said without bothering to introduce himself.

“How can I ever tell his mother?” Gil was mumbling. “She’ll be devastated, destroyed.
He was all. . . .”

“Mr. Harper,” Cirello repeated, impatience sharpening his tone. But it was as if a
wall had sprung up around Gil, insulating him from Cirello’s words.

Danny stepped closer to him. “It’s okay, Mr. Harper,” he said gently, “we’ll take
care of notifying the next of kin.”

Gil turned to him and nodded. “Thank you. Please let Anya know we’ll take care of
all the expenses, anything she needs. We’re here for her. She and Matthew—,” his voice
cracked, “like part of my own family, since Matthew was a little kid.”

“When did you last see the deceased?” Cirello asked, still using his naked-light-bulb
approach. Rory wasn’t surprised to find that he hadn’t learned any compassion from
the time he’d spent with his younger partner.

Gil’s brow furrowed and he seemed momentarily lost. Danny didn’t try to rush him,
but Cirello was turning an interesting shade of angry and the muscles in his neck
had started to bulge. “I . . . I’m not sure,” Gil stammered finally,” . . . a week . . .
a week or so ago?”

“Maybe you could finish the interview in Mr. Harper’s office?” Rory suggested. Standing
this close to the body had to be making it harder for Gil to concentrate.

Cirello glared at her.”Believe it or not, Ms. McCain, I’m quite capable of doing my
job without your assistance.” Rory clamped her jaw shut before she could say something
she was bound to regret. She didn’t want to make the situation worse for Gil or Danny.
“In fact there’s no reason for you to even be here,” he went on. “You and that dog
belong on the other side of the police tape.”

From behind his partner’s back, Danny gave her a sympathetic shrug. Rory knew he couldn’t
help her out. She was no longer with the police department, and Cirello had every
right to banish her from the crime scene.

“You heard me,” Cirello snapped at her. “Take that mud-caked flea bag and get out
of here.” The words were barely out of his mouth when his knees suddenly buckled under
him and he pitched forward onto the ground, landing on top of Matthew. One of the
uniforms tried to help him up, but he waved the man off and scrambled to his feet
on his own. “Which one of you jokers pushed me?” he demanded glaring at each of them
in turn.

“Nobody,” Danny said, looking equally surprised. “No one touched you.”

“Someone slammed me in the back of the knees hard enough to send me flying. I’ll find
out eventually, so whoever did it might as well man up now.”

Rory had a pretty good idea who was responsible, but she had no intentions of sharing
that bit of knowledge. “Maybe it was one of those microbursts they talk about on the
weather channel,” she suggested.

“Localized at the back of my knees? What kind of fool do you think I am?” he shot
back at her as he brushed the dirt off his suit.

“There’s actually a new phenomenon they’re calling a marshaled burst,” she said, trying
to keep a straight face. The other policemen were looking at one another with raised
eyebrows, but even if they thought she was nuts, they all chose to remain silent.
If their emperor was naked, he wasn’t going to learn the truth from them.

“I thought I told you to get out of here,” Cirello snapped, having apparently chosen
her as his scapegoat for lack of a better candidate.

Rory placed her hand on Gil’s arm again. “We’ll talk soon,” she told him as she led
Hobo past the patrolmen. “Try to stay out of drafts,” she called over her shoulder
to Cirello. She knew she was baiting the beast, but she couldn’t help herself.

Sharon Pape
is the author of the Portrait of Crime Mysteries and the Crystal Shop Mysteries.
She lives on Long Island with her family.